Last year a girl broke my heart, I wore a mask and a facade.
In retrospect my ribcage wasn't my heart's safest guard.
I fell, crashed, plummeted into the pavement hard.
We went from locking eyes like lovers, then everything changes,
and we started locking eyes like complete strangers.
Now if I could express this in front of my guy friends
and rather sit in a pool of emotional fiction and pretence
It would have saved for a lot of hidden and unspoken anguish;
So please I beg you to understand, and excuse my language:
but **** SOCIETY!

The critics casting judgement, I haven't even been dressed yet,
Judging books by the cover at go and ignoring the get set,
You've never taken the time to get ready to know people
but you rush to the finish line and deemed those left behind, 'evil'.
You saw shades of colour in the same way you did a tree,
your heart learnt to love only what your eyes can see,
you saw the skin colours and focused on the image,
glanced at the cover, read the blurb and chose to never finish.
You critics casted judgement on a man and his husband,
Disgusted in the same way of hearing about two cousins,
I don't really dress for you, so don't worry about what I'm wearing;
So please I beg you to understand and excuse my swearing
but **** SOCIETY!

I've been on online bulletin boards, anonymous boards,
To alleviate the general sensation of just feeling bored,
But I took a wrong turn, landed in a place where hatred roamed,
And I know that I did not take this wrong turn alone.
I have seen your type, cheer on **** as though it was a competition
sprawling all over 'how she deserved it' , each sentence was wicked.
I have seen your type; type away paragraphs calling a minor: a ****,
and I do not know if you suffer from the pain we feel but words cut,
they cause an internal bleeding that drowns out the flame and life
inside of us, and when we chose to relax and go online to peruse at night,
you are there; with your taunting terror, laughing at the disabled,
laughing from a monitor screen, bits of bytes and data from a cable;
and every second of our lives, we would have to be stuck with you.
You speak of knowing our hurt, mocking our pain as if it was true,
And I pity those who found tall buildings, and harming themselves
before they could ever reach out to find any sort of help.
I'm sorry, I had a major fall earlier, and I may have a concussion
So please  I beg you to understand and excuse my cussing:
but **** SOCIETY!

Truthfully speaking, ******* society!
What the **** have you done for me?